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She was tied to the well, but she might have been in the middle of a desert for all the good that the water did her.
    Still, Ila Mae didn’t lose heart until she became sensible of Sarah, who began to cry. Ila Mae ached for the little girl,hungry and thirsty, although she knew the baby was safe inside the crib Billy had made for her. Ila Mae pulled with all her might, hoping the rope would come loose, pulled until she scraped the skin off her wrists.
    It was on toward evening, when Ila Mae heard Sarah calling, “Ma, Ma,” for Sarah was a bright thing who even at that young age knew her mother was
Ma
. Ila Mae realized the sound was louder than before. She wrenched herself around toward the house and saw then that the little girl was in the doorway. The man who’d gone into the house had upset the baby’s crib, and Sarah crawled through the door and out into the dirt. Ila Mae called to her, “Sarah, come to Mama. Come to Mama, sweet girl.”
    Sarah heard her mother’s voice and laughed and crawled toward the well. But something turned her head, and despite Ila Mae’s pleadings, the little girl sat in the dirt and played with sticks. When she grew bored, she looked around and began to crawl again. Ila Mae called her to come, and she did, but with Ila Mae’s hands tied over her head, the mother couldn’t grab the baby. Ila Mae tried to hold the child with her feet, but Sarah pulled away and started down the hill, cooing and talking. The baby must have tumbled then, because after a time, the little thing began to cry. The crying grew fainter and farther away, until Ila Mae could hear it no longer. She called until her voice gave out, but she never again heard her baby’s voice. Ila Mae strained her eyes trying to make out the baby in the moonlight, but she couldn’t see her, either. She pulled at the ropes that bound her until they rubbed almost to the bone, but the restraints held. Finally, she gave up and closed her eyes and prayed—prayedthat someone would come along and free her or that Sarah would crawl back up the hill to safety. Billy was gone and Sarah was all she had now. What if Billy survived the war, only to come home and find that his little girl had perished? Or maybe he wouldn’t come home, and she’d have lost them both. Bitter tears ran down Ila Mae’s face, and with her hands tied, she couldn’t even wipe them away.
    Just at dawn, Ila Mae heard something stir behind the house. A man darted across the yard, and Ila Mae called out. It wasn’t much of a sound, because her voice was gone, but the man heard her, and moving from tree to tree, he came close. He was the Confederate, and Ila Mae thought he was there to rob her.
    “You got yourself in a pickle,” he said.
    If God had heard her prayer and sent this man, then maybe Sarah was all right, Ila Mae thought. But they had to hurry. “Quick. They think you’re my husband, Billy, hiding out. The home guard tied me up because I wouldn’t tell on you, and my baby’s crawled off. I can’t see her. Please help me, mister,” Ila Mae whispered. “Please hurry.”
    “You won’t turn me in if I do? You got to promise me that.”
    “I won’t turn you in. My word’s as honest as gold. They made my husband enlist and he’d run off, too, if he could.”
    The soldier studied Ila Mae a moment before making up his mind. Then he cut the rope. He took her raw wrists to rub the circulation back into them, but Ila Mae wouldn’t wait. “I’ve got to find Sarah. She’s my baby, and she’s loose out here. Help me.”
    The two took off down the hill, Ila Mae going one way,the man another, and it wasn’t two or three minutes before she heard him call, “Missus.”
    There was such sadness in his voice that Ila Mae knew he’d found Sarah. She tried to rush to him, but her feet were as heavy as if they’d been weighted down with sad irons, and she could hardly move. It seemed as if it took her five minutes to go three hundred yards. When she reached